


Okay

by Deannie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 03:40:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No, things never would be like they were...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Written May 2006

> _"Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way."_

_Sure, Sammy. Look how well that worked out for you._ Three years out from that damn demon, and Sam still had his back. Usually.  


Dean could feel the blood slipping through his fingers as he tried to keep pressure on a wound too big for his hand--he didn't even know why he was bothering to try to stop the bleeding, other than habit. Because there was no way they were getting out of this one. Still, like a good soldier, he just kept up the pressure and sort of fell on his ass, not quite able to process that she was coming for them again... and he was the only thing standing between her and Sam. 

Sammy. His responsibility. He was the one who had dragged Sam away from his apple pie life. He was the one who kept reminding Sam just exactly how _not_ normal the world really was.

Jess and Mom may not have been Dean's fault--maybe not even Dad--but Sammy? Lying there motionless with blood all over his face? That was on Dean's head. And he was going to be damned for that, if for nothing else.

> _I'm not going to live this life forever._

_Maybe not,_ Dean thought, feeling more blood slide down the back of his hand to cover the cement floor of this fucking warehouse. _But I wanted you to live_ some _kind of life._ Sam's head moved--eyes shifted a little under their lids, maybe--and Dean fought against irrational hope. Why didn't those weird-ass psychic abilities see this coming, huh, bro?  


_Shit, Sam...._  


Okay, no. There was just no way this was happening. No way in hell. Winchesters were a lot of things, but quitters? Fuck that.

>   
> _It's never going to be over. There's going to be others. There's always going to be something to hunt._ And something to be hunted by.

"Well, your hunt just ended, you bitch," Dean muttered, grabbing for his gun and fighting his way off the floor as an unholy shriek rose behind him. " 'Cause you are _so_ not getting this one."  


The wraith appeared before him as he turned, her beautiful features marred by eyes full of hate, and Dean stood between her and his brother and raised his shotgun in shaking hands. All night they'd been flinching at her speed, surprised by her when she'd flick out of existence for a second, switching her attack from one of them to the other. Now it was just him, and he couldn't care less how fast she was because, honestly? 

He was pretty damn sick of the bitch.  


She didn't bother feinting right or left, just came straight for him like he was already dead. And Dean stood his ground. Shot her right through that poor excuse for a heart. And when she dropped like a stone, he didn't even have the energy to smile.  


One more mission accomplished, he thought grimly, trying to clear the fog from his mind. If Dean couldn't save the important things--people--at least he could do this right.

>   
>  _You, and me, and Dad. I want... I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again._   
> 
> 
> _Dean... we_ are _a family. I'd do anything for you._

"I know you would, Sammy," he whispered, falling to his knees as the wraith slowly disintegrated and slapping a hand back on that ass-ugly bleeding gash. Not that it was helping much, but it was all he had.

> _But things will never be the way they were before._

No. No, they wouldn't, not anymore. Dad was gone, Sammy was...  


 _Sam_ was breathing. Bloodied and broken, and  _that_ was all Dean's fault, but Sam would pull through. Because he had to. Because he had to go do... whatever he needed to do. School, life, family. Whatever normal he needed, Sam deserved. Because Dean had been fucked from the age of four, but all he'd ever wanted for his brother was peace.

And now, as Dean felt himself bleeding out, regardless of the hand he kept on that fugly gaping wound, he knew that Sam could have that. _He'd_ be gone, but Sam was already starting to move a little, and now that the wraith was toast, he'd come to soon and get the hell out of here and be safe.

"You just hang on, Sammy, you hear me?" Dean whispered, slipping in something wet as he repositioned, leaning against the wall. Blood on the wall. Writing on the wall...

>   
>  _Things will never be the way they were before._   
> 
> 
> _Could be._  
> 
> 
> _I don't want them to be._

"Well, don't worry, Sammy," Dean murmured as his hand finally slipped away from the hole in his gut for good, letting out more of the red stuff he couldn't live without. It didn't matter now, as he heard Sam moan a little. "It won't be like it was."  


But it _would_ be okay. He was sorry Sam was going to have to deal with this himself, but Sammy was strong. A lot stronger than Dad had ever given him credit for being. He'd mourn (at least a little, Dean selfishly hoped), he'd probably cry like a four-year-old boy who'd lost his mommy... And then he'd move on, safely away from the hunt.

Dean kept his eyes fixed on his brother as his vision flashed in and out like that damn wraith had been doing all night. Sam would  _have_ a life. A family. A normal. He'd be okay. 

_Not like me._  


But somehow...  


... somehow, that was okay, too...

* * * * * * *  
The End  



End file.
